Memento Mori
by Bellicose Blue
Summary: As long as they have each other, they will never die. / Fifty drabbles, CatoandClove-centric, updated daily.
1. we were so young

**A/N:** The Glimmer drabble series _(Make Me Your Queen)_ is being incredibly stubborn, but I want to keep the daily posting routine going, so I'll be starting this instead! Between the projects, there will be at least one new drabble posted each day, possibly two if _MMYQ_ starts cooperating. This one is, unlike the other, all contained within the same universe and chronological. I've got about a quarter of these prewritten and plenty of inspiration for the others, so this should be fun!

* * *

Today is her first day at the Academy. She stands as tall as she possibly can, which isn't very tall; she at least gets enough to eat, and that's more than she can say for a good half of the kids around her, but she's still one of the tiniest ones there. The Academy recruiter actually demanded to see her birth certificate to prove that she really is seven and not too young for the after-school training program, but she's here now, and she'll do whatever it takes to show that she _belongs_ here. This is going to be fun.


	2. a girl of a different kind

**A/N:** I'm really liking this series so far! It has a really _Vainglory_ -esque feel to me, and y'all know how much I love that project.

* * *

They've assigned her an older kid to show her around the Academy. He's a boy three years older, although he's already so big it looks like more. He has the light hair and pale eyes of the stonemasons who live in the center of town and design buildings and sculptures for the Capitol, and he's currently the top of his class. His name, he tells her, is Cato.

She tries not to yawn and only partially succeeds. "This conversation is great and all," she drawls with the long vowels of the quarries, "but when do we get to start fighting?"


	3. we ruled the world

**A/N:** About a third of the way finished with this already! Thank you all so much for the love- school is a killer, so I've only had time to type up more chapters on my phone, but I will thank you personally, I promise!

* * *

She doesn't start fighting for another couple of years, officially, at least. There's a lot of group games to play and general fitness tests to pass before they'll allow anyone to even glance over at the weapons. But some afternoons, when their breaks correspond, Cato sneaks her into the main training area and hands her a knife.

"Do you know what to do with this?" he asks the first time as she stares at its deceptively beautiful blade.

Her parents are miners, not butchers. She shakes her head, entranced by the way it gleams. "No. But I want to learn."


	4. why don't you come and play?

**A/N:** I got inspiration for the final drabble in this set, and all I can say about it is _oh my god_. I'm equal parts horrified and thrilled.

* * *

Cato shows her how to hold the knife, how to stab it like she would into the gut of an attacker, how to throw it. She's good at it. She's _very_ good at it.

"You're sure you've never done this before?" he asks her at the end of the break, staring at the target opposite them. Its center is dotted with knives packed so tightly they obscure the bullseye completely.

"Yeah." She shrugs, not particularly concerned with the way a trainer on the other side of the room is eyeing them. "That was fun. Got anything else?"

He grins. "C'mon."


	5. why'd you run away?

**A/N:** I'm having way too much fun with this project, oh my goodness!

* * *

"Why are you teaching me?" she asks him one day, bluntly, the way her parents would shake her head at but that he seems to appreciate. "Nobody else is helping the younger kids. Why you? Why _me?"_

He gives her a sharp smile. "Because no one else is as fun as you are."

"You mean crazy," she snorts, rolling her eyes. She's heard people talk about her before.

Cato shrugs and turns back to the dummy he's resting on, absently tracing the contours of its face with a knife. "We're all a little crazy, Clover. That's what makes us winners."


	6. please take me away from here

"I hear the top two in each class get a day off for the holidays this year," she says. "You going to visit your family?"

His mouth twists into a scowl before he can catch himself. "They don't want to see me."

"Oh." She's silent for a moment while she digests that, realizing she's never heard him talk about the people who sent him to the Academy on his seventh birthday. Her parents visit every Parents Day even though it means they lose a whole day's salary. "I'm not going, either."

"What about your family?"

She shrugs. "What about them?"


	7. shouldn't talk about it

The other kids in her class are so _boring._ They fidget during morning roll and whine when they run laps and cry when she practices her new tricks on them. She complains to Cato about them, pretending not to notice the trainer behind them.

"You shouldn't talk so loudly," Cato interrupts in a low mutter, as quietly as he can manage. "They're always listening."

She smiles broadly at him. "I know."

The very next day, a trainer tells her she's being promoted early, and she shoots Cato a smug grin across the gym. He just shakes his head and laughs.


	8. don't you like my style?

**A/N:** Y'all, I'm over 40% finished with writing this! If you were wondering, it's currently tied with _Vainglory_ for my favorite project.

* * *

She's ten when they finally let her touch the weapons for real. Of course, she can't exactly go up to the knives and sink them all perfectly into the bullseye on the first try, _thunk thunk thunk_ , not when she's supposed to be a shaky novice who can barely hold a knife without slicing her own hand open. Cato smirks at her across the gym and laughs at the way she forces herself to clumsily drop the knife with a loud clatter. _Just you wait_ , she thinks, watching him dismantle a series of dummies with nothing but a sword. _Soon._


	9. no good deed goes unpunished

**A/N:** I love when all of the scattered chapters fall in perfectly together!

* * *

The trainer eyes her knowingly as she stands stiffly before him, the angle of her salute Peacekeeper-perfect. "You've been doing quite well in training, Clove," he comments. "First in every category, even swords." His gaze sweeps her small frame dubiously. "One might think you'd done some _practice_ before official training began."

"No, sir," she manages, her throat tight. "No practicing."

"My mistake," he says pleasantly. "That's a shame. We reward initiative, after all. Well, if you're so certain…"

"Maybe- maybe a time or two, sir," she amends quickly.

"With Cato?" At her nod, he smiles. "We can work with that."


	10. made of greed

"I heard you got promoted again," Cato calls, grinning. "At this rate, you'll be going into the arena with me."

She rolls her eyes. "I can't imagine anything worse. Is it too late to drop down a level?"

He pulls her into a headlock, ruffling her hair as she yelps and claws at his arm. "Too scared to go up against me?"

"Please," she snorts, writhing against his hold. The trainers are all on high alert, watching for the slightest sign that he'll snap her neck, but she knows he won't. "If we do go together, I know I'll win."


	11. where my demons hide

**A/N:** Halfway finished with writing these!

* * *

"Hey, meathead," she calls, strolling over and flicking a knife one-handed. "You look lost."

Cato jumps at the sound of her voice, tearing his eyes away from the wall, and she frowns. She hasn't been able to sneak up on him in years. "I'm fine," he snaps.

She watches his massive hands twitch, empty, at his sides for a moment before it hits her. "Shit. I didn't know they'd started the kill tests already." She pauses, runs her tongue over her teeth and tastes blood. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he mutters again, softer. "Just tired."

She doesn't try to argue.


	12. my skin should crack and peel

Her own kill test comes a year later.

She barricades herself in the bathroom afterward and examines her reflection in the mirror, checking to see how she's changed. She's a bit paler, maybe, her jaw clenched tightly as she scrubs at her blood-encrusted hands, but otherwise she looks the same. No one would ever think she just slid a knife into a man's ribs and _twisted_.

She's not sure how long it is until Cato grabs her wrists. "Your hands are clean enough," he says.

The only blood on her hands is oozing from scratches that match her own fingernails.


	13. living like we're renegades

**A/N:** I had yesterday's chapter already written, but I was too tired to go all the way over to the computer to upload it, so it's the one prior to this. Good thing I didn't just throw it up yesterday- I ended up rewriting it quite a few times!

* * *

Killing becomes second nature to her, not like it wasn't already. Cato had snuck her some old Games videos as a birthday treat a few years back, hoping to see her cocky smirk slip down her face at the sight of real, uncensored death, but she'd been captivated instead by the way the blood shone so bright in the light of the moon as it dripped down a girl's throat, puddling beneath the stars as the trumpets sang and victory came once again to Two. Someday that'll be her wearing that crown, victorious together with Cato. She's sure of it.


	14. wicked through and through

**A/N:** Oh my goodness, y'all, everything is all coming together and it is _glorious_. I finally had motivation yesterday to start the long and painful rewrite of the soulmate au, and these next couple of chapters just fell into place, and everything is beautiful and wonderful and perfect.

* * *

"You've improved since your first kill, Clove," the trainer remarks.

"I was weak then, sir," she says, voice steady. Her lip curls at the memory of her visceral reaction to her first kill test, how soft she'd been, how _pathetic_.

The trainer doesn't deny it, just nods. "The Academy has seen fit to promote you to the shortlist. You will be the female volunteer for the Seventy-Fourth Games."

The same Games as Cato. Her heart drops.

At her silence, the trainer presses. "Will that be a problem, Clove?"

Her breath hitches at the thought of disobeying. "Not at all, sir."


	15. there's no use crying about it

"Together, huh?" Cato's voice is soft, but even so, she flinches.

"Together," she confirms, not looking at him.

"I always knew it would end up like this." He lets out a quiet sigh, a curse, a prayer. She is silent. "I just wish-"

"Don't," she interrupts, more harshly than she'd intended, and she can hear the slight hiss of breath that means she's hurt him. Good. He needs to hurt. He needs to hate her, for only then will she be able to win.

He storms away without another word, and she buries her face in her pillow and screams.


	16. I'm far too tired to fall asleep

**A/N:** I finally got motivated to work on _Kingdom Come_! Between yesterday and today, I got the first chapter- about 1.7k- fully written, and oh my goodness, I'm so excited for it. It'll be a multichaptered work, Lyme's POV, following a similar plot to _Bellona and Mars_ , except so far it's actually good. I'll keep you posted!

* * *

Training isn't very fun anymore. She's built for speed and accuracy, for quick jabs and poison-dipped blades, not for doing heavy lifting more suited to the quarries. But if there's one thing she hates more than anything, it's weakness, so she grits her teeth and tells Cato to pile on more weight as the trainers nod approval. They work her so hard that she collapses into bed at night, still fully-clothed, before falling into a stupor. She wakes up dazed and delirious, full of thoughts that don't belong to her, until the alarm sounds and it's time to train again.


	17. now through the smoke

**A/N:** This one went through a few too many rewrites, but I'm tired.

* * *

"You ready, Clove?" Cato asks on Reaping Day, looking in but not quite entering her room. It's the first time he's called her by name in weeks, she realizes suddenly. He's been distant, aloof, watching from the sidelines as memories and sanity slip through her fingers. There's a light in his eyes that wasn't there before, something fierce and wild and _cold_ , like he's already won. She can't even recognize the boy who used to be her friend. She's lost him. She's lost them both.

She swallows back a sob and plasters on her widest, craziest grin. "To win? Always."


	18. onward to glory I go

**A/N:** This one underwent far too many rewrites. Also, college apps are _super_ fun.

* * *

For a moment, she is normal. Just one face in a sea of hundreds, a quarry-girl like any other, perhaps a little smaller than they're usually built, but no one stares at her for it. Their eyes slide over her like she's not even there, like they don't recognize the best knife-thrower their District has seen in fifty years. She could so easily step back and let the crowd consume her, let some other girl steal her glory. She could be average. She could be forgotten.

For a moment, she is nobody. But it won't be that way for long.


	19. the point of no return

**A/N:** Hey, look who's not dead! I'm still alive and writing (and goodness gracious, in this past week alone, I've written two chapters and started a third of a new multichap, finally started fully rewriting two oneshots, and just started a new oneshot today!), but I'm trying not to burn out- I've been there before, and it was _not_ fun. I'm trying to keep myself interested and non-stressed by only writing where the muse goes, and right now, it's just not this project. So I have a good three or four prewritten chapters immediately following this one, but I think I'll hang onto them for a little while and try to get at least the next ten finished before I upload more. I'm not going to play the same two-chapters-one-day game that I did with _Centuries_ to catch up, so this project most likely won't be finished within a fifty-day timeframe, but I am totally fine with that.

Also, if you're one of the people who wanted to see a sequel to _Cheap Shot,_ please send me a PM or leave a review or something! I have good news and bad news about it, but I'd rather not write it here, because I've taken up too much space already.

Just wanted to let y'all know what's up!

* * *

Time stops.

She eyes Cato, a lone mountain atop the stage, and licks her lips. She knows she might regret killing him eventually, but not right now. She can't think of anything else when the cheers of her District are ringing in her ears and begging for her to bring them victory, crying for blood. _Soon,_ she promises them, barely even noticing the other girl shakily climbing the stairs. No matter who she is, she's nothing in the end. That poor, poor girl. She almost feels sorry for her.

"I volunteer," she shouts, and the world explodes in thunderous applause.


End file.
